


The Best Laid Plans ...

by hazelandglasz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, M/M, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22663132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: Prompt: Jack is out of town for their anniversary (a game/family emergency/photoshoot/meeting with another team about a possible trade to a major NHL team, whatever floats your boat) and he feels awful for leaving Bitty by himself on what is supposed to be their day but it was unavoidable. As he's sulking in his hotel room that night, there's a knock on the door from what he assumes is room service but it's actually Bitty there to surprise him.
Relationships: Alicia Zimmermann & Bob Zimmermann & Jack Zimmermann, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 2
Kudos: 153





	The Best Laid Plans ...

He had planned everything.

Their second anniversary was at the end of the month, and Jack had it all figured out. He had the day off, there was no game scheduled, no charitable event set up by George.

Bitty would go to work and then he would come home to a full dinner, served by Jack himself, in an apron (still debating on whether there would be something underneath the apron or not). The very thought makes him blush, but he knows it could make Bitty laugh that adorable tingly laugh that warms Jack from the inside.

And then they would…

Well, there was a good chance that Bitty would snuggle up to Jack, wrapping himself around his body before kissing him into the night.

Maybe they would have sex, maybe not. (That would be up to Bitty, really.)

But, to paraphrase Burns, the best laid plans of mice and men often go shitty.

As it is, his mom broke her leg on the Québec house’s stairs while his dad is away on the North American leg of his book tour.

“You shouldn’t have come, baby,” his mom says from her hospital bed, leg wrapped in a cast that looks heavier than her. “What about your anniversary?”

“Bitty understands, M’man,” Jack says while he finishes brushing her hair. “I rescheduled everything for next week, when Papa is back from his tour.”

“Still,” Alicia says before being interrupted by a yawn. “And you have to sleep in a hotel nearby, too.”

Jack smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Bitty picked it, if that makes you feel better. I prefer to be close without sleeping on this chair, if you don’t mind.”

Alicia laughs softly, eyes blinking close. “You’re right. My beautiful baby, always right.”

Jack huffs a laugh before tucking the blanket around her. “Sleep tight, Maman. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Closing the door behind his lightly snoring mother, Jack leans against the door and sighs.

He’s glad it’s nothing more serious than a broken bone, but...

But he can’t help but worry: his parents are in their prime, sure, but there is no denying the effect of aging on their bodies.

How long until the next incident is worse?

Jack shakes his head, taking a deep breath. Dr. Leroy always tells him not to let his anxiety take hold of the “what ifs” that swirl around his head.

He focuses on the present moment, and another kind of emotion takes over.

Right now, he would give anything to have Bitty’s warmth near him. To have his husband by his side, supporting him with his strength and his presence.

But he couldn’t ask Bitty to drop everything just to be in Québec with him. Not that Bitty would have refused, but Jack would just never ask that of him.

The  [ auberge  ](https://www.quebecoriginal.com/fiche/images/800x600/d0f65280-6974-4e4e-9e7c-facfe790bcd6/auberge-michel-doyon-facade.jpg) Bitty found is comfortable—it even brings a smile to Jack’s lips, as it reminds him terribly of Bitty himself.

As he climbs up the stairs, Jack can’t resist the need to hear Bitty’s voice.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, Monsieur Québec,” Bitty says, his Southern drawl making his French irresistible. “How is Alicia?”

“Maman is fine. Completely loopy on painkillers.”

Bitty laughs softly. “Tell me you recorded it.”

“No! I would never.” Jack pauses, patting his jacket for his key. “She would never forgive me.”

“And an angry Alicia—”

“—is a runaway-from Alicia.”

Bitty lets out one of his soft laughing sighs. “Exactly.” He pauses, the sound of fabric rustling in the background. “How are you, Jack?”

Jack wants to instantly reply that he’s fine, but he knows better than to give an empty answer to his husband. “I miss you,” he whispers in the phone, closing the door behind him. “I feel terrible for leaving you alone on our day.”

“Jack,” Bitty admonishes immediately. “It’s not like you asked your mama to get injured so you can be out of town, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then don’t feel bad. It’s just a delay.” Bitty pauses, and more rustling can be heard. If he closes his eyes, Jack can picture him. Bitty is probably coming home from work, maybe he bought some take-out just to pamper himself. “I’ll see you very soon, and we don’t need a special date to celebrate what we have.”

Jack closes his eyes as he smiles, the need to wrap Bitty in his arms overwhelming. “Oh, Bits.”

“I’m here, Jack. Wherever you go, I’m always with you.”

Jack doesn’t say a word—he doesn’t need to.

“You’re back at the hotel?”

Jack sighs. “Yep. I’m about to order some room service and go to bed.”

“No cakes.”

That makes him laugh and he reaches for the menu, already nodding like Bitty will see him. “No cakes.”

“I love you, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“It’s Mr. Bittle for you, Mr. Bittle. I love you too.”

Bitty laughs before sending him a kiss through the phone.

Jack looks at his screen, his thumb caressing the  [ picture  ](https://i0.wp.com/www.4ye.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/tumblr_op191bDL6P1szaospo1_500.jpg?w=500) of them acting as his lock screen, courtesy of Lardo. Oh, how he wishes he could do just that.

He calls the lobby to ask for a burger and a salad before going into the bathroom to freshen up and put on his shirt and soft pants.

(Well. Honesty time: it’s one of Bitty’s bigger shirts that he sneakily stole to sleep in while he’s here. )

He’s mindlessly zapping between the channels, his heart squeezed in his chest as he stops on a cooking show, when a soft knock on the door disturbs the relative quiet of the room.

“Coming,” he calls, reaching into his discarded pants for his wallet to retrieve a tip for the delivering boy. “Oh.”

Because behind the door, it’s not someone holding a burger and salad.

No.

Behind the door stands his husband, looking a little bit tired, just a little shadow on his jaw and his jacket slightly rumpled.

He has never looked more handsome in all the years Jack has known him.

“Bits.”

Bitty smiles, pushing away from the doorframe to get closer, one hand automatically reaching for Jack’s cheek. The moment his warmth radiates close to Jack, Jack puts his hands on Bitty’s waist.

“Happy anniversary, amour.”

Jack gulps audibly before replying the only way he knows how, by lowering his face to Bitty’s and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Ahem.”

Behind them, a blushing teenager stands, holding up a tray and looking at pretty much anything but them.

Bitty presses his forehead against Jack’s shoulder before reaching for the crumpled note in his hand, passing it to the young man. “Thank you very much, sir,” he says with a wide smile. “I’ll take it from here.”

The teenager looks between them, clearly hesitating. Bitty smiles crookedly before lightly elbowing Jack.

“Oh, right. Sure. You need, um, my signature on the receipt?”

He can almost hear Bitty’s eyeroll. 

“Yes, Mr. Zimmermann, sir,” the teenager says, holding up the pad. “And, err, if it’s possible to get an autograph? If it’s not too much to ask?”

“Sure,” Jack says, forcing himself to smile at the young man when all he wants is to press said smile into his husband's skin. “What’s your name?”

Regis, as it so happens, is delighted to have an autograph from his idol and leaves them alone fairly quickly, not even tripping over his own feet on his way away.

Bitty holds the tray like a professional waiter, hips cocked to the side. “Now, where were we?”

Jack smirks. “At a place where I am very hungry,” he says, pulling Bitty into the room and closing the door on Bitty’s sudden laugh, silencing it with a kiss.

(The painting of a trio of kittens only knows which hunger Jack decided to satisfy first, and it won’t tell.)


End file.
